


Show Me Your Teeth

by Aluxra



Series: McGenjiAUWeek [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 22:35:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15229425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aluxra/pseuds/Aluxra
Summary: McGenjiAUWeek Day 1: Supernatural/Fantasy AUMcCree is a hunter who regularly meets with vampire Genji after striking a bargain with him. They perform the ritual of drinking each other's blood in order to gain extra powers. McCree agreed in order to extend his life and grow stronger than the demons he hunts, but Genji's reasons elude him.Sexual themes wasn't a tag, so I had to stick with mild sexual content.





	Show Me Your Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> My first entry for the McGenjiAUWeek! 
> 
> I stuck with the cheesy vampire cliche, but I hope you still have fun reading it! 
> 
> Enjoy xXx

McCree lowered himself carefully onto the remnants of the broken stone chair, his eyes scanning the surrounding area for movement, in the shadows among the trees and the hidden gaps between the fallen, cracked stonework that had once been the walls of the cathedral that had stood there. He set the lantern at the corner of the table closest to him, staying near the warm orange light. His hands now empty, he itched for one of his weapons that he had been forced to leave behind in agreement of the truce that had spanned several years. To keep his hands still, he clasped them between his knees, keeping his body relaxed and loose.

Like always, the creature he would be meeting was late, forcing him to wait as the night continued to drag deeper into the darker hours. The meeting place was far away from the nearest town, and he had no way to track the time except for the steady climb of the moon over the treetops. Despite the time, he remained alert, his ears and eyes sharp for any sound, any sudden movement that didn’t fit. He had never managed to catch him in the past, but that didn’t stop McCree from trying each time.

He could instantly tell when he failed, at least, his eyes off to the right when he felt a sudden presence at the opposite end of the fractured table, raising the hairs on his neck and his arms.

Turning slowly, his gaze fell on the creature sprawled over the arms of the other chair, the high back of it toppled over and offering no support. Not that the creature would need it, perched on the seat with inhuman grace, unaffected by the wind or the chill in the air, wearing nothing but a pair of dark trousers tucked into low, slouched boots and a wide collared black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal thick leather bands around his wrists and his throat. His hair was as dark as his clothes, his eyes more so, black enveloping the whole surface from corner to corner. Still, they focused on McCree through with a hyper intensity that would make any other men crawl on their knees, either to flee from him or to grovel at his feet, depending on his mood. McCree remained where he sat.

“Hello, hunter,” the vampire said with a smile, his voice low and velvety, the air rippling with his compulsions, and the desires behind them. McCree’s tightened his grip on his hands, keeping them between his knees. Clenching his jaw, he took a deep breath, ignoring the natural, earthy musk that permeated the air around him, teasing his senses.

“Genji.” His usual greeting. “You’re late.”

Genji tutted, rolling his head back on his shoulders at McCree’s cold, clinical professionalism. “Really, no hello? No enquiries about my well-being? What I have been busying my time with since last we met?”

McCree said nothing, staring at Genji deadpan. Genji tutted.

“Pure business, even after all this time,” he sighed. “You won’t even extend me the courtesy of calling you by name.”

The air rippled again, the compulsions stronger as Genji’s eyes met his own, unblinking. McCree’s jaw clenched, a muscle jumping in his cheek, veins pressing against the skin on his throat. That drew Genji’s attention to his neck, the tip of his pale pink tongue darting out to sweep across his bottom lip. McCree’s hands began to ache inside his gloves, his grip merciless until the compulsion passed. Genji pursed his lips in an irritated pout, his nails tapping against the stone chair until the timbre of the clicks changed, sharp, stiletto claws replacing smooth, rounded nails.

“If you have no interest in honouring the terms of our agreement, then I have no interest in remaining here,” McCree said, unclasping his hands and adjusting his hat, before he stood in one fluid motion and reached for the lantern.

A hand snapped around his arm in a vice like grip, Genji at his side in the blink of an eye.

He twisted his wrist, jerking it and pulling Genji closer to him.

Genji slammed his free hand into his shoulder to knock him off balance.

McCree used the opening presented to press the tip of the blade in his hand between two of Genji’s ribs, stilling the vampire.

They stared at each other in the silence, the rustle of the wind through the long grass and the tree boughs nearby the only sound in the hidden meeting place.

Genji’s eyes narrowed dangerously, pulling his lips back in a snarl.

“The terms of the agreement denied you any right to bring weapons here,” he hissed, tightening his grip on McCree’s arm. Ordinarily, he could have crushed it to dust in under his fingers. Standing on hallowed ground, however much time had passed since the cathedral had been destroyed, weakened him of his physical strength.

“True, but they didn’t deny _you_ ,” McCree said with a smile, angling the hilt so Genji would see that it was his own black-hilted blade, taken from the sheath hanging from his belt. Genji’s eyes flicked down to the knife, confirming it was true, and then back up to McCree, a scowl on his lips. McCree simply raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking in a smirk. “Shall we continue, or should we simply part ways and reschedule for another time?”

Genji bared his teeth again, and released his grip on McCree, taking the knife and swiftly sheathing it. McCree flexed his fingers on the hand Genji had grabbed, resisting the urge to reach up and rub at his wrist.

“Well?” he pressed, his eyes never leaving Genji.

“Have you noticed any changes, yet?” Genji asked instead, cocking his head to the side, curious. McCree raised an eyebrow, and Genji simply shrugged, revealing nothing of his motivation for asking.

“My reflexes seem faster,” he answered, deciding to indulge him. “I can go longer without food or water or rest, but I still need them –”

“You’ll always need those, unless you want to be fully turned?”

“No,” McCree shot back quickly. Genji smiled.

“I would be a good sire,” he promised sweetly. “I’d look after you, take care of your every need.”

“No,” McCree repeated firmly. Genji tutted, clicking his tongue against his teeth.

“Pity. It’ll take decades before the effects are truly noticeable, when you haven’t aged a day past your thirty-something years, when you’re as nimble as a youngling and stronger than an ox, when your reflexes are sharper than a blade and your senses notice things you never thought you could before,” Genji stated. “Yet you’ll have no weaknesses of a vampire. You’ll effectively be the perfect immortal, free to hunt those like me until the end of time, or until the end of all things like me.”

He smiled then, cold and cruel, pointing one long, clawed finger at himself. “But then you’ll have only one creature left, and the perfect irony is that as soon as he dies, you’ll die too.”

“I’m willing t’ pay that price when it’s due,” McCree said.

“And if I’m not?” Genji asked conversationally.

“You won’t have a choice.”

They stared at each other, their long-standing stalemate hanging heavy in the air between them, before Genji scoffed, breaking eye contact and looking away into the darkness.

“No matter, that time is still a long way away,” he said, hopping up to sit on the edge of the table. Even then, he was still slightly shorter than McCree, their eyes not quite level. “Now, shall we?”

McCree nodded curtly, pulling off one glove and setting it on the table. His eyes never left Genji as he began to unlace his sleeve. Genji shifted, his hand spasming where it gripped the edge of the table, as if he had wanted to reach out to stop McCree but quickly aborted the action. It gave McCree pause, raising his eyebrows as he stared at Genji, his sleeve half undone.

Genji thinned his lips, running his tongue over them, and looked up at McCree through thick, dark eyelashes, edging forward on the table until he nearly had to stand again.

“I don’t want your wrist,” he said simply.

“Then you don’t get my blood.”

“I think an amendment should be made to our little agreement.”

“I don’t.” McCree began to lace up his sleeve, when Genji’s hand shot out and stilled him again. “You’re testing your luck tonight, Genji.”

“I don’t ask for much…” Genji began.

“Just my blood.”

“Which you, in turn, take from me,” Genji reminded him. “That is the only thing balanced in our exchange.”

“We both drink each other’s blood. We both take from the arm. That’s the deal,” McCree shot back, his temper rising.

“You gain benefits from our exchange after only a few years of making it,” Genji said, his grip tightening on McCree’s arm. It wasn’t a threat. It felt more like a plea. “I have to wait decades, perhaps centuries. I don’t ask for much –”

“You want to drink from my neck, which has a higher risk of sending you into a bloodlust and _killing_ me,” McCree snarled, yanking at his wrist to detach Genji. It didn’t work. He still wasn’t stronger than the vampire. Not yet.

“It also has the benefit that it will be over faster for you,” Genji reasoned.

“Heh. What, getting tired of my company?”

“Not at all. I only have your comfort in mind,” Genji replied innocently. McCree snorted.

“Tell me another one. It never crossed your scheming li’l mind that taking from my neck at a faster rate would leave me weaker afterwards?”

“You would quickly regain your strength after taking from me,” Genji said. “Really, hunter, it’s not that different from taking from the wrist, just the time it takes to do so.”

“Where d’ ya need to be so bad that you’ve t’ cut these delightful meetings short all of a sudden?”

There was a heavy pause, and Genji released his arm, dropping it back down to the table. He averted his eyes to the floor, dropping his chin to his chest. “Nowhere.”

A lie. An obvious one, but a frightened one, as if he feared McCree asking too many questions would have consequences for him rather than McCree.

McCree considered the vampire sitting before him. He was a young one, McCree had known that from the first time they crossed paths. Not physically, he had probably only been a few years younger than McCree when he’d been bitten, but he _was_ a young vampire, likely only sired in the last fifty years, if McCree gave him that. Physical age and the experience gained after roughly three decades of being human went out the window when a vampire was newly sired, having to relearn everything, contradictorily both stronger and weaker than they had been as a human. It was absurd, even to McCree, that a new vampire like Genji could and would so freely roam alone.

All the more absurd that Genji had been the one to offer the deal in the first place.

McCree sighed, clicking his tongue against his teeth. He removed his hat, tossing it onto the table next to Genji, and began to unfasten his coat, quickly removing the many layers he wore before he could change his mind, until he was down to the loose, off-white shirt he wore, the ties already slack around his neck. He yanked them free from the knot, pulling the collar of the shirt to one side and cocking his head, exposing more of the warm, tan brown skin underneath.

Genji sucked in a breath through his teeth, his throat working around a swallow as he eyed the thick, corded muscle of McCree’s neck. His black eyes found McCree’s questioningly, frozen where he sat on the table.

“Well?” McCree said, tilting his head further to the side. “Get on with it. You clearly have more pressing issues to address tonight.”

Genji swallowed again, his eyes flicking from McCree’s neck to his eyes, indecisive.

“No tricks?” he whispered.

McCree snorted. “I should be the one asking you that. Just hurry up, and _don’t_ kill me.”

Genji nodded, only seemingly half listening as he carefully stood, reaching out to run his hands up McCree’s broad chest, playing with the ties on his shirt before the tips of his fingers found bare skin, causing an involuntary shiver up McCree’s back.

“Genji,” McCree said in warning.

“It… It might be easier if you’re sitting.”

“How many advantages are you going to ask for tonight?” McCree demanded. Genji swallowed, his eye twitching at McCree’s tone. It was the equivalent of a full body flinch from the vampire.

McCree clicked his tongue, narrowing his eyes, before heaving a sigh and dropping into the seat behind him, spreading his knees for Genji to step between and close the distance between them. Instead, Genji slid into his lap, straddling one leg and curling over himself to reach McCree’s neck.

McCree grunted, but said nothing. Genji had gone beyond his usual quota of taking liberties during these meetings, and McCree had no more fight in him to argue with the vampire. This close, his alluring scent invaded McCree’s nose, scattering his thoughts even as he tried to keep a level head. His roaming hands didn’t aid the matter, trailing his fingers up to grip McCree’s shoulders, fisting his hands in the material and pulling it even tighter across his chest. His firm, lean frame pressed up against McCree, seemingly unaware that McCree could feel the fine shivers that shook his entire body, the freezing cold of his skin seeping through their clothes. Cool lips hovered above McCree’s pulse, not quite touching the skin.

Neither of them moved for several long seconds, McCree growing more confused than impatient with Genji, waiting for the sharp sting of teeth sinking into his neck. Time ticked by, and still, Genji did not move.

McCree made a questioning noise at the back of his throat, and released his hold on his shirt. Slowly, he reached his hand up, curling it around the back of Genji’s throat. His warm fingers brushed the cold skin at the nape of his neck, and Genji twitched above him. McCree watched him, but his expression was lost in the juncture between his neck and shoulder, offering no answers for his strange behaviour. With the slightest of pressure, McCree pushed him closer to his neck, closing the distance till he felt Genji’s cold lips against his skin.

He winced, resisting the urge to pull his shoulder up to protect his neck. Instead he carded his fingers up through Genji’s black hair, resting his palm against the back of his head and holding him in place as Genji’s lips parted, his fangs extending to the swell of his bottom lip.

He opened his mouth wider, and McCree inhaled sharply, bracing for the pain.

It came a moment later; a deep, hot, wet burst of pain that bloomed above his pulse point. He gasped as he felt the sharp pull at his neck, blood bubbling from the puncture wounds and pooling in Genji’s mouth before it was quickly swallowed down, and then repeated as Genji sucked at his neck again.

McCree’s breath hitched, clenching his hand in Genji’s hair, his free hand clutching at the arm of the chair, pressing against the high back but unable to move anywhere. He grunted, black and white spots flashing in front of his eyes as Genji continued sucking and lapping at the bite, his claws digging into his shoulders and risking new puncture wounds.

Releasing his hold on the chair, he wrapped his arm around Genji’s waist, crushing their bodies together. The shift caused Genji to gasp, momentarily losing his hold on McCree’s neck. Blood spilled down McCree’s neck freely, the warmth of it a hard contrast against the cold body pressed against him, until it was lapped away by a quick, deft tongue, and lips sealed the wound once more with a small moan. Hips rolled against McCree’s leg, and he slid his hand from Genji’s waist to his lower back to still him.

Instead he found himself pressing Genji closer, heat spreading through his groin as he felt Genji move against him in long, undulating waves, moving in time with the pull at his neck. Heat flooded through his body, his blood boiling in his veins and shooting down to his groin, his body reacting in kind to the beautiful, dangerous man sitting above him. Desperate, mewling noises escaped Genji’s throat, his fingers clutching frantically at McCree’s shoulders, his breath hitching as he pulled more and more from McCree.

“Genji…” McCree hissed warningly. “Genji…!”

Genji didn’t seem to hear him, or didn’t care, biting down hard on McCree’s neck with a moan.

McCree shouted in pain, his breath falling past his lips in heavy, ragged gasps. The darkness began to encroach on his vision, his addled thoughts reverting into the more primal instinct to survive.  He tightened his grip in Genji’s hair, twisting the thick clumps between his fingers and yanking him back. Genji fell from his neck with a yelp, his back arching to relieve the pressure on his scalp. He didn’t release his grip on McCree’s shirt, pulling at the fistfuls he held desperately.

McCree shook his head to get rid of the blackness at the edge of his vision, his movements sluggish against his light-headedness. Sucking in deep breaths, he clapped his hand over his neck to stem the flow, tensing his thighs and forcing himself to his feet. Depositing Genji on the table with a graceless thump, he fell against the edge and pawed at his coat, searching through the pockets for the small purple vial he kept in reserve for these meetings.

Fishing it out, he cursed hindsight for not having a larger dose on hand, but there was naught to be done about it. He bit down on the cork and popped it off the bottle with little resistance, spitting it into the grass somewhere to his right and tipping the bottle up against his lips, downing the whole thing. The vile, viscous liquid felt slow going down, and he gagged, swallowing to get rid of the sensation that it was coating the inside of his throat. Despite its astringent taste and smell, it acted fast, the skin around the puncture on his neck knitting together seamlessly within a few minutes as he stood there clinging to the table and breathing slowly through his nose to avoid collapsing.

Beside him, Genji hadn’t moved from where he lay, sprawled out on the cracked stone table. His lips and chin were smeared with blood, the lantern making it appear black against his skin. He hid his eyes with an arm thrown over his face, his other hand wrapped around his middle as he panted for air, his cheeks stained with a rosy blush of hunger and arousal. McCree glanced fleetingly down the length of Genji’s trembling body, averting his eyes at the noticeable bulge in his trousers, and ignoring the uncomfortable one in his own as he straightened up and wiped the remainder of the blood from his neck.

“See, _this_ is why y’ don’ drink from the neck, ‘less you’re planning to kill whoever you’re eating or you’re feeding off your sire or your bonded,” he explained. He inspected his bloody fingertips. The damage didn’t look as bad as he had suspected. “What the hell were you expecting?”

“I just wanted to know,” Genji whispered, so quietly McCree almost didn’t hear. His hand twitched on his stomach, his fingers trailing towards his clothed cock before he stopped at his belt, curling his hand into a fist. “I wanted to know what it felt like.”

McCree stared at him with a frown, a question forming on his lips. He opened his mouth to voice it, only to shut it again. He sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. “Well, now you do. What ingenious idea do you propose now?”

“Just take my blood and leave,” Genji ordered shaarply, rolling away from McCree and curling up on his side, exposing his back – a foolish choice any vampire would make with a hunter, but McCree had long since shook off the irritation that Genji didn’t perceive him as a high threat.

McCree gritted his teeth, hands curling into fists at his side. Genji’s bizarre mood throughout the night had worn his patience down to nothing, and he reached out and grabbed Genji’s shoulder, hauling him up and around to face him.

“I have had _enough_ tonight,” he snarled. “What the hell is -- are you crying?”

Genji flinched, looking away, but McCree had already seen the twin tracks of blood spilling from the corner of Genji’s eyes.

“I… I made a mistake,” he said, his voice wavering. He wiped his eyes and mouth with the back of his hand, smearing the blood across his cheeks. He huffed, a noise of distress escaping the back of his throat, and rubbed harder at the stains.

“Hey. Hey! Knock it off,” McCree said, finally yanking Genji’s hands away from his face. Genji looked away, his face scrunched up in a sad scowl. He pulled his wrists out of McCree’s grip, folding them across his chest like a petulant child. “What the hell is going on?”

“Nothing,” Genji said. “Our bargain is not yet complete for tonight, hurry up and do it.”

“Genji, what d’ya want me t’ do? The whole reason for taking from your arm was because you wear those ridiculous cuffs and collar.”

Genji hand shot up to his throat, his fingers trailing along the wide, thick band of leather encircling his throat, protecting the blood vessels underneath. Similarly, the cuffs on his wrist extended half way up his arm – when McCree drank, it was from closer to the elbow than the wrist. His face crumpled at the feel of it, and he closed his eyes, letting his head fall forward in defeat. So close together, his forehead almost rested on McCree’s shoulder, his hair lightly brushing against his shirt. He looked entirely too vulnerable in the soft orange light of the lantern, curled up over himself. His shoulders hitched every so often with his struggling emotions, his face hidden from McCree’s questioning gaze.

His heart twisted in his chest at the sight of the poor, distressed vampire, despite reasoning warning him it was a trick – for what purpose, he couldn’t fathom. His teacher had always warned him he had a softer heart than he revealed to others, and it would lead to his death, but McCree had brushed off the warnings – his teacher hadn’t been any kind of seer to make a prediction like that.

Their words came back to him heedlessly, as he reached out and wrapped his arms around Genji’s shoulders, drawing him in close and embracing him gently.

Genji tensed in his arms, jerking his head to stare up at McCree in confusion and suspicion. McCree craned his neck so they were face to face, so close McCree’s vision was swallowed by the black depths of Genji’s eyes, their noses brushing lightly against each other. He heard Genji swallow, his eyes flicking to the unmarked spot on his neck where he had drawn blood.

“Hey, you’ve had your turn,” McCree said, lightly teasing.

Genji’s eyes returned to his, bloody tears pooling on the waterline, his mouth gaping open and shut with questions he couldn’t voice. McCree dipped his head, watching Genji carefully in case he startled, and pressed his lips gently against his cheek. The taste of Genji’s blood hit McCree instantly, lacking the bitter, metallic taste of his own in favour of a sweeter taste. He lingered there for a long moment, the taste and scent of Genji a heady concoction that could easily fell men and women alike before compulsions were ever needed.

Using every ounce of his willpower, he pulled back, shifting his arms around Genji so he could gently rub his back in soothing circles. With hesitant, jerky movements, Genji uncurled his arms from around his waist and looped his arms under McCree’s, resting his hands on his shoulders in a careful, open hug in return. They remained like that for some time, McCree continuing to stroke Genji’s back and hair, returning again and again to kiss away any tears that escaped down his cheek, the rich, sweet tang of it invading his senses, sharp bursts of strength replenishing his energy that Genji himself had drained from him.

“What are you doing, hunter?” Genji murmured against his shoulder, his eyelids drooping, going boneless under McCree’s soft administrations.

“I ain’t sure,” McCree replied truthfully, resting his cheek against the crown of Genji's head. “Feels like I should be doing it, anyhow.”

“You’re an idiot,” Genji admonished, without any hostility. "You didn’t get enough blood.”

“We can worry about that later, Genji,” McCree soothed. “We have plenty o’ time.”

Genji said nothing for several long moments, his next words so quiet McCree hoped he misheard them.

“That’s not for us to decide.”

McCree said nothing, even as he felt his heart sink to his stomach with cold dread, an unshakeable fear gripping him with the knowledge that, sooner or later, something truly wicked was going to come his way.


End file.
